


Let us fear ourselves

by serenityabrin



Category: Les Misérables (Dallas 2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, Javert Lives, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityabrin/pseuds/serenityabrin
Summary: After three years together, Valjean begins to act suspicious and tell lies. Javert is determined to uncover what's going on, no matter what it costs them.
Relationships: Javert/Jean Valjean
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esteliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/gifts).



Kneeling on the floor, Javert balanced his binoculars on the windowsill, and covertly watched the scene unfolding across the street below him. His focus was on two men standing in a doorway of an abandoned building. Valjean was unmistakable. After all the years Javert had hunted him -- and the last three years together -- Javert didn't think he could ever miss him.

The other man Valjean was talking to was a mystery. There was something faintly familiar about him, but the mystery man was mostly facing away. This gave Javert a good angle to see Valjean's face, but at the expense of identifying the other man.

As Javert watched, Valjean glanced around. His actions were furtive and cagey, twisting the knot of doubt tighter in Javert's stomach. Javert watched as Valjean pulled out a wad of money, quickly placing it in the unknown man's hand before anyone could see. In turn, the man handed something to Valjean, who pocketed it before Javert could make out what it was.

They shook hands, Valjean looking around as if to make sure no one saw. Seeing the mystery man slip away, Javert pulled out his phone, and dialed Valjean. He watched Valjean grab his own phone and look at the screen to see who it was. Javert was tempted to say he looked guilty, but it was a little far away for Javert to say that with certainty.

"Javert!" Valjean's tone was happy, and Javert wasn't sure if there was strain there or if he was imagining it. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. My shift's been quiet so I thought I'd swing by the Community Center early."

He saw the panic that momentarily flared across Valjean's face. To his credit, it was barely evident in his voice. "Right now?"

"Sure. That's where you are, right?" Javert's stomach tightened in anticipation of the answer.

"Of course." Javert's heart dropped at the provable lie. Valjean hurried, "But I'm going on a grocery run. I won't be back for a few hours."

"That's okay. I can wait for you there."

"Right. Right." Valjean had begun to pace on the other side of the street, his agitation obvious in his actions but less obvious in his tone. "I just don't want you to be bored."

"I'm used to long stakeouts. It wouldn't be the first time I've waited on you." Javert tried to make it an easy joke, as if that was a thing between them. Even under normal circumstances, their jokes rarely landed.

Javert shook his head at himself, but it seemed Valjean did not catch his strange behavior. Below, Valjean was frowning in apparent concentration, and there was a noticeable pause before he said, "Okay. Sure. As long as you don't mind -- Are you sure you don't want to swing by the house first?"

"I'm sure. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, soon." Valjean sounded distracted. "Love you."

Javert swallowed. The offhanded farewell was familiar but muddled. He should repeat it back, like usual, but he found the words stuck in his throat. The feeling for Valjean they described roiled in his heart -- no less felt for not being said -- but he couldn't make himself say anything but a muttered goodbye.

Fortunately, Valjean didn't notice. As soon as the call ended, he was dialing someone else. Javert wished he had Valjean's phone bugged or that he had the directional sound equipment the department used on real stakeouts.

This was purely personal, though, so he only had his own binoculars at hand.

Valjean was talking fast, once again pacing up and down the street. It was clear to Javert that arriving early at the Community Center was not the plan. Which made him all the more determined to do just that. He was going to get to the bottom of this. He wasn't going to let Valjean make a mockery of him.

Javert waited just long enough for Valjean to finish his conversation and walk away before getting up to leave as well. He'd barely gone three steps when his phone rang again.

He was about to ignore it when he saw "Chabouillet" flash across the screen. Groaning in frustration at his boss's bad timing, he nonetheless answered the phone.

"Boss-"

"Javert, I need you back at the precinct right away." His boss's voice was crisp with command.

Javert frowned. "Why? What's happened?"

"I'll let you know when you get here. Get moving." The phone call ended abruptly, as most of Chabouillet's calls did, and Javert scowled at the little device.

Well, there was no way he could ignore his boss, which meant his decision to beat Valjean to the punch was moot. Valjean would have ample time to cover his tracks, whatever those were.

Javert strode angrily out of the building, determined to get whatever his boss needed done with as soon as possible and get to the Community Center before Valjean.

He would have the truth, no matter what it cost him.


	2. Chapter 2

Javert's plan was half successful. As far as he could tell, Chabouillet had ordered him back merely to flex his authority. It had taken Javert two hours to extricate himself from unnecessary busywork before he could finally get free to pursue his own investigation. This left him arriving at about the time Valjean had wanted him in the first place.

However, Javert had one boon. The Community Center appeared to be deserted so it looked like he had beaten Valjean there after all.

Something about the quiet street and dark building set Javert on edge. He had been to the Community Center hundreds of times.

Which made it all the more obvious that something was wrong. He looked up at one of the upper windows, and thought he caught movement -- someone quickly ducking away so as not to be spied. Javert unbuttoned his jacket so he had free access to his gun. Cautiously, he let himself in the main door.

"Valjean?" he called, since that was expected of him. His ears were sharp for disturbances, so he heard the soft scuttle of someone's feet. But no one answered him, and he slid his hand onto the hilt of his gun, fingers curling over the reassuring metal. "Are you here?"

"Back here." Valjean's voice called out from the darkness. "In the rec room."

The rec room, at the center of the Community Center. No windows. Far from any exit. Drawing Javert further in.

Javert sensed a trap, and his finger slid against the trigger of his gun, ready to pull it out and fire in an instant. He kept it in its holster for now, not wanting to give away that he had caught onto the deception.

Keeping close to the wall, Javert made his way further inside the Community Center. It was still eerily quiet, the lights off. But quiet wasn't silent. As he reached the door, Javert could hear the shift of fabric and the scuff of shoes. Back to the wall, he debated his course of action, and as he did so, he picked out more noises. Breathing, from more than one mouth.

Was it an ambush? What was Valjean planning?

Javert should call for backup, but there was still that niggling doubt. In the three years they'd been together, Javert had never caught Valjean in a lie before. He didn't know what exactly Valjean was lying about now or why. What could he even tell backup this was for?

No, Javert was on his own until he learned more, and the way to do that was through this door. However many there were in there, they were bottlenecked from rushing him by the door. He would get a good look, and if it was trouble, he would bolt.

If he got the chance.

Sweat slid down the back of his neck. He was too aware that this could go wrong, but the need to know was stronger than self-preservation. Cautiously, he pushed the door open.

The room was dark inside, and Javert firmed his grip on his gun, pulling it an inch out of its holster.

There were people inside but Javert could not make out any of them. Everyone was trying to stand still as statues, still trying to take him unawares. It just made them more noticeable to him.

Javert took another step, pulling him over the threshold but he intended to go no further.

Everything happened at once. The lights burst on. Javert glimpsed a huge cake on a table, a pile of presents, balloons everywhere -- as many voices shouted, "Surprise!" A sign at the back wall lit up with a huge neon sign of "Happy Birthday, Javert!" Dozens of people surged to their feet, throwing confetti at him or blowing noisemakers.

And Valjean was suddenly there, rushing forward with a huge grin on his face.

Javert hopped back, only just managing not to pull his gun out or shoot himself in the foot in surprise.

"Fuck."


	3. Chapter 3

In the courtyard behind the Community Center, Javert sat on a bench with his head in his hands. A slice of uneaten cake was on the bench beside him. Chabouillet had pushed it into his hands soon after he'd arrived. His call to Javert made sense now. Everything made sense now, and Javert was an idiot.

"Javert? You're missing the party." Valjean's voice floated out over the quiet courtyard. Javert could hear his tread as he moved closer, heard him pause when he finally spotted Javert, and then rush forward. "Javert? What is it? What's wrong?"

Valjean moved the plate of cake to the ground so he could take its spot beside Javert. Javert could feel the warmth of Valjean beside him, and it just made him bury his head further into his hands.

Valjean would have none of that, gently grabbing one of Javert's hands and pulling it away from Javert's face. "Javert?"

Finally, Javert looked at him. Valjean's expression was so concerned, and Javert felt his heart tripping over on itself. "You deserve a better boyfriend," he blurted out.

Valjean frowned, clearly confused. "No, I don't. Where did that come from?"

"You don't understand." Javert's tone was frustrated, but the emotion was mostly directed at himself. "How long have you been working on this party?"

Valjean glanced away, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Well, when we had your birthday last year, you said you'd never had a surprise party and . . ."

"So, you've been planning this for a year." Javert's frustration grew. Valjean had put so much effort in on his behalf, and look how he had been repaid: distrust, surveillance, silent accusation. And, now that Javert realized this had been going on for a year, he was suddenly disappointed that he'd only caught on a few weeks ago, which only added to his frustration, as that was very beside the point right now.

"I was happy to do it," Valjean said, also missing the point. He brightened, smiling warmly at Javert like it was an honest pleasure to put out so much effort on his behalf.

Fuck, Javert didn't deserve him. "Valjean, you were acting suspicious."

"Oh, well, I suppose I couldn't completely fool you. You are a decorated police officer, after all."

"No, Valjean," Javert said, squeezing Valjean's hand hard as if he could force him to really see. "You lied to me. _You_ were acting _suspicious_."

Valjean frowned, but then, "Oh." His eyes widened as it hit him. " _Oh!_ "

Javert let go and looked away. "You deserve someone better than me."

A gentle hand recaptured Javert's hand, and he reluctantly looked back. Valjean's eyes were still inexplicably warm with affection. "It's okay if you were suspicious. I certainly gave you reason."

There was amusement in his tone, and Javert hated him making light of it. "You don't understand," he ground out. "You don't know what I was thinking. I spied on you. I purposefully set traps to catch you lying. I thought you . . ."

Javert didn't know what he thought Valjean was up to. Wasn't that always the way? He had always been suspicious of him, always assuming the absolute worst, inventing crazy and outlandish villainy because the truth that anyone could be so wonderful was too much for Javert to accept.

He'd thought he'd finally overcome that, finally seen Valjean for who he really was, but apparently not.

"I didn't trust you." Javert whispered the words, feeling hollowed out inside. "I knew there had to be an innocent reason for what you were doing -- and there was! -- but my brain is too dark to come up with it. You deserve someone so much better than me."

"You are being too hard on yourself," Valjean said with conviction. Gently, he reached out to touch Javert's cheek, running a finger along his skin at the edge of his beard. "I should have realized how it would look to you. I'm sorry."

"No!" Javert jerked back, anger flaring hot in his chest. " _You_ are not the one who should be sorry here. _You_ did nothing wrong. I'm the one who didn't trust you. Normal people don't immediately think their boyfriend is committing felonies for telling harmless white lies."

"We are not normal people, though," Valjean said. He pulled Javert's hand to his chest. "You spent more than a decade hunting me. Years suspicious of me when I was mayor -- and rightly so, I would add. I did lie to you all that time, and you were right to be suspicious. I have broken the law. It's not as if you are distrustful with no basis. If you've been spying on me, it's only because I started lying to you. I gave you cause."

"It's wrong," Javert said. He hated Valjean excusing this. He'd crossed a line. "I may have been suspicious of you as mayor, but it had more to do with the fact that I couldn't believe someone as good as you existed. Deep down, I've known that wasn't the truth. I have always twisted your actions around to make them worse than they are. You have never deserved what I have accused you of. What I still accuse you of, apparently."

Valjean sighed softly, and sat quiet for a moment. "If we are exposing hard truths, then I have something to confess. I am lenient with you because I understand what you feel."

"You're suspicious that I'm committing crimes behind your back?" Javert raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Valjean leveled him with an annoyed look, but it cleared quickly into that guilty expression Javert had spied only this morning. "No, but I know what it is like to be held hostage by old feelings -- to know they no longer apply but still find the past haunting my thoughts. I know what it feels to think I don't deserve to be with you."

Javert's head snapped back as if struck, stunned to think Valjean could ever think he didn't deserve Javert. Valjean deserved the world.

Before he could argue, Valjean offered a sad smile. "If your burden is suspicion, mine is fear. I have been afraid. Of you." Javert's gut twisted tightly at the soft admission, and Valjean seemed to anticipate his reaction.

"I know you would never hurt me. Certainly, now that we have been together and I have my pardon, there is nothing to fear. But I spent so long looking over my shoulder -- looking for _you_ in every crowd. Even when you weren't there, your shadow was. I've spent so long anxious that at any moment you would finally find me. It isn't right to be afraid of you, but there are times when I turn around and you are there, and my heart leaps into my throat and I'm a second away from fleeing out the door. Every time it happens, I feel just awful. I love you, Javert. How can I still be afraid of you?"

Javert swallowed thickly, a cold feeling running up his spine. "Valjean, if there's anything I've done-"

"That's just it!" Valjean jumped in. "You haven't done anything. You have been nothing but a wonderful boyfriend. I'm not afraid that you will hurt me or betray me or anything. But I understand what you are feeling now. That spark of old feeling catching you unawares. It happens. We are two old men who have spent most of our lives in one pattern. Neither of us is going to shake that easily. I don't want to be afraid of you, and I know you don't want to be suspicious of me. Perhaps, in time, we won't feel that way any more."

"You really think we can get over this?" Javert was dubious.

Valjean shrugged. "I know that I love you. That is all that matters to me."

Javert ran a hand through his hair, still feeling lower than garbage. Valjean would -- and had -- forgiven the worst of humanity, so Javert didn't feel that was enough to absolve him of his actions.

"I love you too," he said, finally. If Valjean wanted to keep him, Javert was too weak not to let him. He would just have to find a way to make it up to him somehow.

Valjean smiled, leaning forward to offer Javert a slow kiss. "Come on. We're going to be missed soon. You are the guest of honor, after all."

Letting Valjean drag him to his feet, Javert pulled him back for another kiss. "I still can't believe you put all this together for me."

"I still can't believe it worked. I was so sure you'd catch onto the surprise. You must have realized your birthday was coming up. Didn't you notice I hadn't said anything about our usual party?"

Javert shrugged. "I never celebrated my birthday until I met you. I've never given it a second thought."

Valjean shook his head. "Well, we're changing that. Cosette is right. You need to be the center of attention once a year, at the very least."

"If it makes you happy." Javert tucked Valjean against him. "But I'm not sure a surprise is the way to go. I almost shot Marius."

"Oh. Yeah." Valjean offered a nervous chuckle. "I may have gotten carried away. I should have thought this through a little more."

"It's not a bad idea," Javert quickly amended. "Just make sure I'm not armed next time."

Valjean smiled, pressing another kiss to Javert's lips before finally pulling him to the exit.

After a moment, Javert's curiosity got the better of him and he couldn't help saying, "So, um, I did see you on Main and Elm this morning. Who were you meeting?"

Javert had the pleasure of seeing another blush climb up Valjean's neck and chase over his cheeks. Valjean wouldn't meet his eyes when he muttered, "Monsieur Black."

Eyebrows shooting up, Javert couldn't hide his surprise. "From the sex shop?"

"It's on the other side of town, and you know I don't drive, and I wasn't going to ask Cosette or Marius to take me and when the package arrived late, Monsieur Black said he could meet me and--" He was babbling, which Javert had always found endearing.

"So, what did you get?" Javert asked.

Valjean's blush deepened a shade of red, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "That's another surprise. For tonight."

A tingle of excitement slid up Javert's spine. "It could be now," he tried to wheedle.

Not unexpectedly, Valjean shook his head. A naughty smile added itself to the mischievous twinkle. "It's a surprise. But if you're a good boy for the party, you can unwrap your present when we get home."

Javert groaned. "You're killing me here."

Valjean laughed. "You can't die yet. I have big plans for tonight."

He pulled Javert back into the Community Center, and Javert allowed it. He decided to put aside his guilt, for now, to please Valjean. Javert was an ass to have doubted the best man he knew, but if enduring a party made Valjean happy, Javert would play his part.

It was the least he could do.

**Author's Note:**

> "Let us never fear robbers or murderers. They are dangers from without, petty dangers. Let us fear ourselves. Prejudices are the real robbers; vices are the real murderers. The great dangers lie within ourselves." - Victor Hugo
> 
> I want to send a huge thank you to Luna for beta'ing. All remaining mistakes are mine.


End file.
